Confessions of a not so dangerous mind
by Is0lde
Summary: Andrew confesses. How will a man of the church react to what he has to say? And will it help him in any way?


**Confessions of a not so dangerous mind **

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_(author's note: Okay. This story deals with the scenario "what would happen if Andrew suddenly got the urge to confess before God?" It's Andrew/Warren... and, depending on how you interpret certain things, also mildly Andrew/Jonathan. Ah well. Enjoy!)  
_  
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Repenting sinners were always such a mess.

The head minister of Sunnydale's best organised church was tired. He'd been working non-stop for days, and he honestly thought that if he had to listen to one more sobbing confession from some pregnant teenage girl, one more painfully detailed description of adultery involving domestic house-pets, one more old bachelor grieving that he'd spent all his money and time on strippers and gambling, he'd honest to God grab the sinners by their necks and throw them out the sacred mosaic window. And as if that wasn't enough, he was beginning to think that they were just messing with his head, all of them. That it was all some sort of conspiracy to drive him out of his mind. Some of the things he heard were just bizarre, although they were always boring enough so that he had to refrain from yawning several times.  
That's why he had to get himself together before he entered the confessional booth. He restrained himself, when all he really wanted to do was burn down the church and run like hell.  
That's what most people do. They hide their feelings and they suppress them, and later, they surface in an often very violent manner.  
He wasn't ready for what awaited him.  
Not by far.

There was a boy sitting on the other side of the booth. Not that boy was the appropriate expression; he was more of a young man, really, but the innocent, naïve look on his face made him seem a lot younger than he really was.  
It didn't take long before he started talking, and when he did, his voice sounded meek and insecure.  
The minister sighed. He really didn't want to fall asleep during work and risk losing his job, but this didn't bode well. Not well at all.  
"Bless me Father, for I have sinned – a lot. It's been... uh... I don't think I've ever confessed. Is that okay? I mean, you're not going to kick me out or anything, are you?"  
"It's perfectly fine. Insight comes to each person when he or she is ready for it. Speak to me about your sins, my son." _God, get me out of here.  
_"Son? Uh, I think you've got the wrong person, mister... err... minister. I'm Andrew. Andrew Wells. Tucker's brother?"  
A deep sigh was heard from the other side of the confessional booth. "It's an expression. Like when you called me Father earlier."  
"Oh, I get it! So it's sort of like a wordgame?"  
Another sigh, even deeper this time. Apart from obviously being a sinner, this guy also seemed idiotic. "I suppose you could say that. Now, speak up. I have other appointments; I'm a quite busy man, you know." He sounded proud and self-righteous. Not so good marks in a priest, perhaps.  
"Well... I don't really know where to begin."  
"How about at the beginning."  
"Great! Okay... so, I was born..."  
"I meant at the beginning of your sins, Andrew."  
"Oh. Sorry. Well, I stole some things in high-school. Mostly from teachers, you know... it was pretty convenient 'cause no one ever noticed me so I could kind of sneak in and out of places without anyone caring. Kind of like having that cool invisibility cloak of Harry Potter's, only a bit more... unreliable..."  
"I think you're drifting off subject, son."  
"Sorry. Okay, so then, I met this guy named Warren. Warren Mears. He was nice, and really handsome, too. Those eyes of his..." Andrew sighed. "He was wonderful. And he had a friend – Jonathan – who'd been at our high-school too except he skipped classes a lot 'cause he was depressed and stuff. Tried to shoot himself one time. Actually, that's a very funny story, but... I guess you don't want to hear it."  
"If it isn't relevant."  
"It isn't. I don't think it is, anyway, but that depends on how you look at things. But he kind of lightened up after starting to hang out with me and Warren."  
"That's a great thing to do," said the minister. "Helping a fellow human being like that, getting him to feel better by showing him affection... impressive for such a youngster like you to figure something that brilliant out. Kids these days are normally quite insensitive."  
"Yeah, I guess that was nice. Except I did something really bad to him later on. Not long ago, actually, come to think of it... not long ago at all."  
"You excluded him from your group." The minister seemed certain. "Isn't that right? It's quite common, although that doesn't make up for doing it."  
"No... actually, I kind of happened to sort of.... kill him."

Silence. Like a musical interlude, only without the music. It was creepy. Andrew thought for a second the priest had died from the shock – for all he knew, he could be eighty years old with a weak heart – but about a half a minute later, he spoke again.

"You... killed him? Why?"  
"Err, could I get back to you on that? You see, there were some things that happened before that, and they kind of... lead to it?"  
"I... yes, of course. If you feel that you'd like to postpone that certain part of your confession, then... yes."  
"Great. Now, where was I? Oh, right. So we started hanging out. We found this really cool place, with this huge basement. I had the best decorating ideas! New wallpapers, nice flowery curtains, everything. But we kind of got bored after a while of watching Star Trek, and since the series were discontinued a while ago there was nothing more to do except play videogames... and even that gets boring after playing thirty hours straight. So Warren suggested..." He paused, and was suddenly uncertain. "Excuse me, but is this safe? I mean, I can talk freely, right? You won't tell?"  
"I am under the promise of secrecy."  
"... 's that mean you couldn't tell even if you wanted to? Like, otherwise God will punish you for breaking your promise? With the 'Take that, filthy liar! My wrath is unquestionable, and you dare defy me? Thou shalt suffer! Aaargh!' and such?"  
"... yes, sort of."  
"Okay. Good. So, he suggested we'd take over Sunnydale."  
"Why?"  
"Why?! Because... err. We were supervillains! That's what supervillains do! Take over cities, and invent neat stuff, and... and conquer, and possibly randomly kill innocent bystanders."  
"You're saying... you and your friends, you killed innocents?"  
"No! No, not... I mean... well, okay, maybe one. Two. But, I didn't have anything to do with it! That was all Warren. And it wasn't even like it was planned or anything, it just sort of... happened."  
"How can things like murder just happen? That's a bad excuse!"  
"No, you see, that's why it wasn't really murder. More like... involuntary manslaughter."  
"So," said the padre, obviously shaken. "So you teamed up to take over Sunnydale. Then what?"  
"Well, there was this slight little problem we had, you see... the Slayer was getting in the way all the time. So we tried to..."  
"Hold on. Slayer?"  
"Yeah. You know, she's kind of short – not shorter than Jonathan, though, 'cause then she would've looked like Yoda or something, only without the green skin, funny ears and wrinkles of course – and she has really shiny hair. I've been meaning to ask her about her hair treatment for months... anyway, she's one of the good guys. And she carries a stake... you know, pointy wood thingy, to kill vampires with."  
"Vampires?"  
"Yeah. They have huge dental issues, and wrinkly foreheads. Ugly sons of bitches. Or, sons of darkness. What ever. She's pretty good looking, actually... for a girl... anyway, she was getting in the way, a lot, so we tried to stop her, but that kind of blew up in our faces. Again, and again, and... you get the picture. Not that we were lacking skill, of course," he hurried to add, "we were all about the brilliant ideas, and if you ask me, we were really natural born arch-nemesises... ses. And Jonathan's magic bone helped a lot, too."

Here, the minister's mind began racing in a directing he didn't want it too. "... do I even want to know?"

"It was a huge deal to him. You know, magicians and their magic bones... although he said size doesn't matter he was pretty proud of it anyway. Smug, sort of. Like, 'my magic bone's bigger than yours!', but I don't even have one. Well, anyway, then there was the Incident – the innocent bystander thing, you know, except she wasn't really innocent 'cause she would've turned us all into the police for attempted rape – although I was never that tempted to attempt anything with her, seeing as I like bo... err, blonde girls better. So Warren tried to stop her, and then, like, BOOM! There she was, all... dead and quiet. After that, Jonathan got kind of pouty and irritating. Like, he was annoying before, but after that he was just obnoxious. He'd never listened to Warren when he said there's be casualties. So Warren said we had to get rid of him, cut him loose, and then it would be just the two of us... taking over Sunnydale, I mean. And that we'd be like gods."  
"And you believed him?"  
"Yeah, sure. Why would he lie to me, I mean, he said he loved... hanging out with me."  
"I'm sure he did. Andrew, did it ever occur to you that he might've been using you for his own purposes?"  
"Yeah, well, I mean... that was just... Warren. He took what he wanted. And I'm really not the leader type, so that was just fine with me. I liked just being around him. We were like Han Solo and Chewie... except I'm not that hairy and can articulate more and better than he can. Also, Warren was so much better looking than Harrison Ford. Damned casting personnel."  
"Chewie?"  
"You're so poorly educated! I could explain..."  
"No thank you. Like I said, I only have limited time with each sinner."  
"Fine, oh unenlightened one. I'll hurry up. Okay, so after the Incident with Katrina and the failure in turning her into our sexslave..."  
"Excuse me. Come again?"  
"Yeah, I don't really know how that worked, 'cause the trinket was all Warren's design. He was great at inventing stuff. The best... well, anyway, after that we did a lot of other stuff... although nothing particularly major. We were sort of biding our time. And then Warren found out about something called the Orbs of Nezzla'khan – spheres that were supposed to make you all powerful. They were... kind of evil."  
"Oh, and then the Toothfairy came to join you? My son, it is not proper to lie in the House of God."  
"Who's lying?"  
"Don't start with me. There's obviously no such thing as the Orbs of Nebula. God would never allow it."  
"Okay, first off, it's the Orbs of _Nezzla'khan_. A nebula is an entirely different thing – duh! And second, I don't see the big problem here. I mean, _Moses_ was a warlock. He had that cool magical staff and whatnot. See? Magical staff – magical balls. Uh, I mean orbs. What's the difference?"

Silence again.

"I'm going to disregard that remark, due to my lack of time and the fact that you're not worth my effort. Please continue."  
"Uh… thanks, I guess. So, we stole the orbs from this race of demons. They were kind of icky. But Jonathan did all the work, so it wasn't that hard, really. Okay, so he could've blown up in a billion pieces if anything had gone wrong, but then again, it wouldn't have mattered really. Mind, we were planning on getting rid of him already. So we used him as our guinea pig. Although not in a sexual way."  
"And Warren took the orbs?"  
"Yeah. He did. And it was so cool, 'cause he was like the incredible hulk after that! The strength was… well, it was… yeah, incredible is just the right word, actually. Then of course, the Slayer came after us, and it kind of went downhill from there."  
"She killed Warren?"  
"No, she couldn't. Smashed the orbs pretty good though. Too bad, 'cause they were really cool and I would've liked a go at them. Anyway, Warren took off using his jetpack, but… uh… mine was kind of malfunctioning, so I couldn't follow. And Jonathan obviously didn't have one, so we were stuck with the Slayer."  
"Jetpack, you say?"  
"Yup. Told you Warren was the best at inventing things. So, we landed in jail, Jonathan and me. Fortunately we got to share a cell. I didn't like the way those tough guys with tattoos kept looking at me… I think they wanted to make me their bitch. Well, after that, a lot of stuff happened. We thought… no, Jonathan thought… that Warren had gone away to somewhere he could be safe, but he returned to get revenge on Buffy – that's the Slayer, doesn't she have the coolest name? – for humiliating him. That obviously didn't go so well."  
"She killed him then?"  
"Nah. He shot her. And in the process, he accidentally hit Tara, the Slayer's friend's girlfriend. Of course Buffy survived. The girlfriend… was not quite so lucky."  
"So what did the friend do? He must've been furious with Warren."  
"Umm… _he_? Oh, you thought… no, you got it all wrong. He's a she. Willow Rosenberg. Computergeek turned überwicca."  
"She's…"  
"Gay. Yeah. But hey! Now I think I've drifted off the subject again… let's not talk sexual orientation. Willow turned all veiny and evil after Tara died. It was like, she didn't have much left to live for, so she figured what the hell. The world didn't mean anything. So she… she sought Warren out, and she…"  
There was a moment of silence. When Andrew spoke again, his voice was tainted by grief.  
"… she flayed him alive."  
"Oh… God."  
"Believe me, He didn't have anything to do with that. Rather the opposite, actually. Well, after that, she got this crazy idea that she should kill me and Jonathan too, possibly in an even more painful and slow manner. So we… split. Yeah, you know, we fought our way out, thanks to my counterspells we got off with a couple of bruises."  
"Wait a minute. You practice witchcraft?"  
"Uh… yeah, exactly! Actually that was more Jonathan's territory, but I did my fair share, yeah. So we got to Mexico together. It was kind of nice. You know, two guys bonding… fleeing from veiny, dark haired forces together…"

"Uh, that certainly sounds… interesting. You did any sinning while in Mexico, then?"  
"Umm… no? Not that I can think of. But this other thing happened… you see, Warren appeared. Except it wasn't really him. It was this First Evil thingy that possessed his body. No, that isn't right… it took on his apparition. Yeah, that's it."  
"Wait. You mean to say that the Devil himself came after you and Jonathan?"  
"No, I said the _First Evil_ did."  
"Satan is the first evil."  
"Capital F and E, silly… err, I mean, Father. THE Evil. The roots from which all evil originates. You get me?"  
"Now hold on. Who's the minister here? Now, I'm telling you… _Satan_ is the origin. The serpent in the garden…"  
"Sorry, but you're dead wrong. I've read about this. Satan is _nothing _compared to the First. There is a huge difference between doing evil and _being _evil. Believe me, I should know. I was never evil. I just happened to slide over to the dark side a couple of times, that was it."  
"Okay, I give up. Clearly, you are a lost soul. A hopeless case. So, tell me, what did this so-called First Evil do, when he'd sought you and Jonathan out?"  
"Well, technically, it only sought me out. It only spoke to me… Jonathan never saw it. It… it told me to buy this particular knife. It was pretty. I bought it, and then…"  
"And then?"  
"We went back to Sunnydale. Jonathan was a bit skittish about these dreams that we'd been having – something about a thing that was supposed to eat us from beneath… or something of the sort – but I calmed him down. And I… he trusted me. We went to a seal in the Sunnydale high basement, and there, I… I sacrificed him, 'cause the First had told me so."

There was silence yet again in the confessional booth. The minister couldn't think of anything to say. Half of what the boy was telling him was downright unbelievable, and the rest… it was pure tragic. It if had been a highly dramatic movie starring Mel Gibson, there would've been emotional music played in the background, performed by an orchestra of violins, violas and cellos. And yet the boy did not cry. He did not in any way seem concerned, or moved. He said everything in a matter-of-fact sort of way, as if it didn't at all concern him.

The minister coughed discretely. "You killed… your best friend."  
"Yes."  
"Why did you do it?"  
"I… I believed it was really Warren. Or, at least for a while. And then I just kind of went along anyway. I missed him… it was like this huge chunk of my heart had been ripped out and stomped on upon the floor, and I had nothing to fill the emptiness with. If I'd been Willow I'd gone all veiny. But I didn't. I'm just Andrew. I've got no super powers, no defences, no way of getting back at those who hurt me. That's also why I was the lapdog of the Trio. And then, he appeared again… I could do nothing but obey. Like, I'd been given a second chance… this was my opportunity to be close to him again. To feel like I belonged, to feel loved and respected."  
"Do you think he respected you when he was alive?" The minister said nothing about the love-part. He'd rather forget it, 'cause he knew deep down inside what it had meant – well, it was obvious – and he was, after all, a minister of the church, and a fundamentalist, at that.  
"Yes. Yes, I do… in his own way, I think he did. Like, respect is really kind of relative, you know? At least he didn't abandon me. Not until he died. It was Jonathan who he didn't respect. I was content with the way he treated me. I think."  
"And the Trio…"  
"That was our name. Pretty nifty, right? Since there were three of us, and… and… yeah, that was really it."

"And after the sacrifice of Jonathan? What happened next?"  
"Umm… well, I haven't sinned since. 'Cause I was forced to confront what I'd done. I owe that to Buffy, mostly. She made me realise some things I couldn't have on my own. So… I'm grateful. And that's mainly why I went here in the first place. 'Cause it felt so good pouring my heart out. I think I'm becoming addicted to the thrill of confession, actually. Hey! Could I tell you about what me and Jonathan _really_ did in Mexico? 'Cause that has really been bugging me for a while…"  
"NO! I mean, uh, I'm sorry, but I have others waiting. I think I've had my fair share of crazy tales of magic, demons, vampires, involuntary manslaughter and ritual sacrifices, Slayers and orbs and not-so-heterosexual male bonding for one evening."  
"Okay then."  
"So has this helped? Confessing your sins before God… has it helped you in any way?"

Andrew thought hard for a second. The minister, weary and exhausted from the long and awful confession, dried off his forehead with one of the disposable paper towels he usually handed out to widows and other elderly women who cried too much. _Never again,_ he thought to himself. _I won't stand it. This is too much. Ignorance is bliss! God, how I wish for those pregnant teenagers now!_

After a while, he could hear Andrew pulling his jacket on.  
"No. Not really. Same time next week?"


End file.
